<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Strokes of Gold in Black Velvet by Toastie_Pan</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631622">Strokes of Gold in Black Velvet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastie_Pan/pseuds/Toastie_Pan'>Toastie_Pan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Big House smol boi, Explicit there to cover anything, Gen, Let's get spooky!, M/M, Victorian Themes, ghost story, tags will be updated as story progresses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:29:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28631622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastie_Pan/pseuds/Toastie_Pan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompto has grown up knowing life is difficult. He accepted it and tried to make the best of what he was given, a roof above his head was nothing to be sniffed at.<br/>But when the shouting and arguing he makes a decision to leave, to see what the world might have in store for him.<br/>But the world instead comes knocking at the door. </p>
<p>House Caelum needs a new cleaner in their employ, and for some unfathomable reason, they've chosen Prompto.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Welcome, step forward Young One.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is gonna be my next self indulgent dive after I finished Dragons into Dreams (need to fill that void). Anyone familiar with my work knows my love of spoopy stories and I've always wanted to get Prompto in a victorian-esque inspired sort of setting so here we are!<br/>Yes there will be a few song inspired chapters and the songs will be noted in either the titles or the notes.</p>
<p>Gotta say I'm a sucker for em. Love it!</p>
<p>Also I may be edging out of my comfort zone in terms of shenanigans so go easy on me, I'm new here xD</p>
<p>That said, hope you enjoy the first chapter! ^.^!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prompto stood in the small hallway, clutching his threadbare chocobo toy to his chest as the raised voices behind the wooden door grew louder and louder. He flinched violently as something smashed and decided he’d had enough.<br/>
</p>
<p>Stomping across the hall, his bare feet freezing cold on the bare wood, Prompto flung open his own door and began getting changed. Shirt, trousers, socks and boots; in a bag went another lot of clothes along with a few other things; a blanket and his chocobo. The streets were no place for him but what choice did he have? He couldn’t live here anymo-<br/>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>
    <b>*Thudthudthud*</b>
  </i><br/>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p>The pounding on the front door startled him, almost making him drop the bag, the hammering suddenly far more threatening in that the voices from the front room had fallen quiet at the unexpected noise. Prompto froze, hand tightening around his bag as his heartbeat thudded in his ears. The voices murmured for a moment before footsteps made their way to the front door.<br/>
</p>
<p>Cautiously, Prompto shuffled to peek around his door as whoever was there began talking in a low tone.<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>If whoever’s there keeps them occupied, then I can sneak out the back maybe…?</i><br/>
</p>
<p>‘Prompto?!’<br/>
</p>
<p>He froze at the sound of his name from his foster father’s mouth, thinking he’d been caught before he’d even started to move.<br/>
</p>
<p>It took him a moment to realise that he wasn’t talking to him.<br/>
</p>
<p>Whoever was at the door, was talking about him but try as he might he couldn’t make out the words. Taking a breath, Prompto steeled himself. Wrapping the bag around his shoulder and back he stepped into the corridor, the sunlight from the open door shuffling the dust motes in the air and bringing into sharp relief how horribly dilapidated the small one floor building was.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘…it’s quite simple,’ the visitor was saying, hidden from Prompto’s view by the bulk of his foster father, ‘you are not to speak to Prompto, attempt to contact him or in any way be a part of his life, business or future dealings. In agreement to these terms you shall be given a stipend each month for the next five years including a bulk down-payment for Prompto’s immediate passing into our custody.’<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Custody?!</i><br/>
</p>
<p>‘Done.’<br/>
</p>
<p>‘What the hells Duncan?!’<br/>
</p>
<p>The indignant squawk from his foster mother made Prompto flinch where he stood catching his elbow on the door frame, Duncan turned at the sound as Prompto hissed, rubbing his arm.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Already packed? Perfect. Come on Prompto.’<br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto looked up, finally able to see the tall man who was at the door as Duncan stepped aside. The man was broad as much as he was tall, bright blue eyes that shone in his shadowed stern face.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Payment first.’<br/>
</p>
<p>The gruff declaration from his foster father, twisted something tight in Prompto’s chest, heat prickling behind his eyes, his blurred vision barely seeing the money stack that was passed over to Duncan where it was immediately snatched from his grip by his suddenly not protesting mother.<br/>
</p>
<p><i>…foster mother…</i>he corrected, wiping at his eyes angrily, though he supposed they were not even that anymore.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Prompto?’ the man asked in a surprisingly soft voice, ‘if you would come with me?’<br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto looked over at his two ex-caregivers who were grinning as they counted the stack and felt that tightness in his chest steel over. Without a word of goodbye, or even looking back, Prompto strode forward out of the front door. He followed the man out of the small abode directly to the path where a large black carriage sat on the road, pulled by a pitch black chocobo.<br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto’s eyes widened as the bird tilted its eyes over to him, as curious as him as he was of it.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Black?!’ he whispered, in awe before flinching. Maybe he shouldn’t be talking freely around his new…owner? He guessed.<br/>
</p>
<p>The man in question had turned at the utterance but merely nodded towards the open door of the carriage so Prompto clutched at his bag, tapering down his urge to go inspect the spectacular creature before him, instead choosing to start whatever this was on the right foot. The last thing he wanted was to cause any animosity straight off the bat. He knew all too well how suddenly people could change.<br/>
</p>
<p>Smiles and treats one moment, fists and snarls the next.<br/>
</p>
<p>The serious man let him get into the carriage untouched of which Prompto was thankful as he clambered in, mildly surprised when the man stepped in immediately after. He was sure the man was the driver as he hadn’t noticed anyone else there.<br/>
</p>
<p>To Prompto’s surprise the carriage moved forward the moment the door was closed. His confusion must have shown on his face as the man in front of him, leaned back into his cushioned bench as black as the rest of the carriage.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Kuro knows which road to go down. She isn’t easily turned astray.’<br/>
</p>
<p>‘So…’ he hesitated, ‘w-where are we going?’<br/>
</p>
<p>The man stared at him long enough to make Prompto squirm, but despite the shifting of his gut he refused to look away.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘My name is Cor Leonis. I was instructed to procure someone for the employ under House Caelum.’<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Employ? So this is a job?’<br/>
</p>
<p>‘You will take care of the house and in return you will have bed and board.’ He answered calmly, watching as Prompto nodded.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Okay.’<br/>
</p>
<p>Mind whirring, Prompto found himself unable to settle on a single question, so instead he stayed silent as the carriage continued forward towards his new life.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>They were silent the entire rest of the way and Prompto found himself wishing he’d opened one of the windows before they had set off. The air in the carriage was getting suffocating and the sliver of air that came in between the velvet lined leather stay and the opening did little to alleviate his increasing discomfort.<br/></p>
<p>He never rode in carriages, let alone for a long time and now he was quickly realising he was poorly suited for it.<br/></p>
<p>He hoped his head and stomach wouldn’t betray him. Not a good idea to start employment with someone by throwing up on their boots.<br/></p>
<p>Swallowing hard against the threatening bile, Prompto breathed steadily through his nose as the carriage jostled heavily, the sound of dirt under the wheels shifting to something more akin to gravel.<br/></p>
<p>‘We have entered the grounds.’ Cor answered the unasked question, leading Prompto to breath out a sigh of relief that it was nearly over. ‘Only an hour to go.’<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Nevermind.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>How large was this estate?!</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Amidst his discomfort, Prompto was distantly thankful that he didn’t have to maintain the grounds as well as the house but that just brought in a worse thought.<br/></p>
<p>How big was the <i>house?</i><br/></p>
<p>Prompto opened his eyes when he realised keeping them shut wasn’t really working anymore and shifted minutely towards the window flap. He could only see the light of day through the intermittent opening, nothing of the area he was in, or what it looked like. The air seemed colder however, cleaner and he was thankful for it. He hoped he would get on good terms with the rest of the staff, if not well he prayed they just left him alone to work.<br/></p>
<p>He had a chance to live a good life, he wasn’t letting anyone make it miserable for him anymore.<br/></p>
<p>With one more stomach dropping jolt, the carriage rolled to a stop and Prompto was not proud of jumping out past Cor as he felt hot and cold roll from his head to his toes and the world tilt alarmingly to the side.<br/></p>
<p>One bump too many.<br/></p>
<p>Cor was kind enough to not to comment as Prompto retched into some rather scraggly bushes behind a moss covered stone vase thing. Luckily or not so lucky for his stomach, it had been empty to begin with so he had nothing to really throw up and so the scraggly bushes were spared.<br/></p>
<p>But a solid minute of dry heaving wasn’t pleasant for anyone.<br/></p>
<p>A container was handed to him and Prompto nodded his thanks before taking a swig, only to cough violently at the burning that ran down his throat.<br/></p>
<p>Cor slapped Prompto’s back twice, taking the flask back.<br/></p>
<p>‘Water’s in the house.’<br/></p>
<p>Rolling his eyes before spitting the taste out of his mouth (at least it didn’t taste of bile anymore), Prompto turned to the house he was expected to work in and <i>froze.</i><br/></p>
<p>“House” didn’t even come close. Nowhere near to the building that he was staring at. The…manor? Palace? <i>Castle?!</i> Stood forebodingly before him, a quite threat that coated its moss covered walls. A shadow cloaked it, despite the bright sunlight that easily covered the grounds and Prompto found himself unconsciously taking a step back. The front curved upwards to battlement style walkways, parapet towers rose from behind the front building and Prompto couldn’t begin to count the extra buildings that spread out around it. Startling at the quiet ‘kweh’ of the chocobo, Prompto moved quickly and grabbed his bag from the carriage before it started moving again, the bird clearly eager to get to the stables. Looking up, he watched Cor move up the front steps to the covered entryway and moved to follow, surprised that the shadowed stone he had seen from afar seemed to actually be black stone, merely covered in dust and moss. He frowned at it.<br/></p>
<p>‘Prompto!’<br/></p>
<p>Startled out of his thoughts, Prompto jumped up the last of the steps the shadow under the archway almost physical in how it swept over him. He shivered as Cor pulled a large key out of his pocket.<br/></p>
<p>‘Um, sir? A-are we not using the side entrance?’<br/></p>
<p>Cor raised a single eyebrow as he pulled back. With no further comment forthcoming, Prompto pushed on.<br/></p>
<p>‘Should I be going through the front door, isn’t that…improper?’<br/></p>
<p>‘I commend you for your caution, but you need not worry about that here.’ He explained, opening the door and gesturing for Prompto to enter ahead of him.<br/></p>
<p>Entering the house Prompto wondered how it was possible that his eyes could go any wider; it took everything in him to not drop his jaw in awe.<br/></p>
<p>The building was large outside but from the inside it was cavernous and under the dirt of neglect it spoke strongly of Old Money.<br/></p>
<p>Prompto glanced at the intimidating gazes of the grand statues of what looked to be old Kings that flanked the carpet of the entrance hall.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Ancient Money.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto stepped carefully forward, gasping at the two story statue of what can only be Bahamut with his wings spread wide, blade before him in rest, wondering what he had been brought into. He thought back to where he came from, the smirks of his…<i>parents? Carers? Guardians?</i>...ex-roomers as they counted the stack of money washing through him like cold water. He shook his head. There were worst places he could be.<br/></p>
<p>‘There are over 200 rooms including three ballrooms and a Grand Hall.’ Came Cor’s voice from the doorway, having not stepped inside. ‘As the cleaner, you will be expected to maintain the building. Cleaning supplies and the kitchen is downstairs for you to use as you wish. Food will be delivered every three days, the first delivery is already downstairs. You can take your choice of room for your lodging as the House is empty.’<br/></p>
<p>‘W-wait, I’m alone here?’ Prompto stammered, gripping his bag tightly. He had expected to be working with an entire team for a place so grand, and any room for lodging? Since when was that allowed?!<br/></p>
<p>Cor stared at him, silhouetted against the sunlight.<br/></p>
<p>‘Stay out of the Flower Wreathed Room.’<br/></p>
<p>The door slammed to, booming through the room. Prompto breathed in heavily, trying not to panic as he scanned the faces of the statues around him, glancing carefully behind him as Bahamut stared impassively at him from above.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>There were worse places he could be…</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A few first meetings</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prompto had found his way downstairs after a few wrong turns, one of which had stone steps leading downwards in a spiral fashion with globe lanterns on the walls, Prompto had taken one look at the broken bar metal door crushed against its hinges and fled back upstairs, quickly closing the door.<br/></p>
<p>The actual route downstairs he was clearly supposed to take was much shorter, the stairs covered in wood which Prompto was already cringing at the thought of dusting. It was going to be a damn mess like the rest of the place and he stepped out onto a flagstone middle room that split outwards to a large dark room on one side, another smaller to his left that he could see a few doors heading outwards from and a corridor that ran the length of the stairs towards the back.<br/></p>
<p>Realising he had to start somewhere, Prompto made his way to the single door. A small key hung on a latch and he was quick to pull it off and turn it in the door. It took a bit of wriggling to turn it fully and he was quick to push it open.<br/></p>
<p>A wind swept quickly through the space, kicking up the dust in the corridor with a gasping breath and Prompto coughed as sunlight streamed in.<br/></p>
<p>It was the side door he had been asking about before. Well he guessed that was good to know. Looking out across the cobblestone yard, Prompto sighed at the sight of the overgrown bushes that circled the area. It was almost a shame there wasn’t a groundsman, at least then he would have had someone to talk to.<br/></p>
<p>Looking down, Prompto’s eyebrows raised at the small wooden pallet crate that had been left on the ground. Bending down he inspected the contents with a poke, still strangely on edge.<br/></p>
<p>Lifting one of the packages, Prompto gave it a cursory sniff, his eyes widening in shock. Carefully he unwrapped what turned out to be a half wheel of pale yellow cheese.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Cheese?!</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Since when had he even come close to the stuff? Let alone close enough to smell it? With something akin to panicked excitement rising tentatively in his chest, he moved around the small pallet, pushing down the urge to just take a rather undignified bite out of the wheel by focusing on the rest of the contents. Cabbage, carrots, potatoes and onions were in attendance, as was a bottle of something and a large brown-paper wrapped package that sat front and centre in the middle of the cornucopia he was facing.<br/></p>
<p>The wind picked up again, sweeping the dirt up in a torrent around him and Prompto was quick to pull closed the paper around the cheese. Yes, best bring it indoors, he can check though it properly without worrying about the dust getting on it. Hefting it up with a grunt, his body having not lifted such weights in a long time, he made his way back into the House, mindful of the step before making his way down the corridor.<br/></p>
<p>With a sigh, his breath already starting to come out heavier than usual from the strain he realised he had no clue where to put it. He had three damn rooms to choose from and his arms were running out of time. Squinting in the dark he spotted a large something in the large room before him and so made his way forward. The temperature dropped horribly as soon as he crossed the threshold and gasping he raised the pallet onto the surface before him. Stepping back, he shivered slightly before looking around him for a light…anything.<br/></p>
<p>Skittering his hand across the wall near to the door, he tried to find a sconce, or…aha!<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>A Switch!</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>That second as he pulled the switch up, he felt something <i>someone</i> graze their fingers across the back of his hand. The light flickered on sharply as Prompto jumped back with a yell, heart thundering in his chest as he pulled his arm close.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>He’d felt that right!? That had happened…that had…</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It was as though whomever had touched him, had been looking for the switch as well, groping in the darkness and Prompto was quick to jump back into the corridor, hand clasped tightly to his chest, the hairs on the back of his neck going sharp as he gazed into the darkness of the room opposite.<br/></p>
<p>When the door to the further room started to creak open, Prompto bolted.<br/></p>
<p>Hammering down the corridor he tripped on the step of the back door and went sprawling into the dirt but before his panic could fully grip him, he was startled by a sharp call.<br/></p>
<p>Twisting he found himself staring into the confused black eyes of Kuro, who tilted her head at Prompto who sat gasping in the dirt. When Cor came round from behind her, he scrambled up.<br/></p>
<p>‘I um, I-‘ he stammered, dusting himself off. Now Prompto was outside in front of his new employer and a rather curious chocobo his panic felt very…<i>childish.</i><br/></p>
<p>‘Is everything okay? You look startled.’<br/></p>
<p>‘Quite…quite fine, sir. I-…a…’ Prompto looked behind him, trying to convey his thoughts without revealing himself mad. ‘I um-.’<br/></p>
<p>He turned back, to see Cor looking into the corridor, his ice blue eyes burning before seemingly coming back to himself and frowning at the shaking boy before him.<br/></p>
<p>‘Spiders and the like are rife in this old house, it is why a cleaner is needed.’ He said pointedly, making Prompto flush red at the reminder of his job, a job he had yet to even start thinking about beginning. ‘You are allowed the day of course in order to familiarise yourself with the House, choose your lodgings; but be ready for tomorrow as then your duties will commence.’<br/></p>
<p>Prompto nodded, still aimlessly rubbing against the back of his hand, unable to quite shake the feeling of phantom fingers…<i>spiders?</i>..against his hand. His simple scratchy shirt itched against his chest as he looked to Cor. The cut of the man’s cloth was clearly high quality even with its simple colours and Prompto felt the weight of his employment settle over his shoulders. The weight of being a no-name kid who managed to survive somehow long enough to get to this moment. It was this, or the streets.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>He can’t indulge in flights of fancy...or being afraid of the Dark.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>He’s got a job to do.<br/></p>
<p>‘Understood.’ Prompto replied, drawing himself up. ‘What would you like done with the pallet? Should the food be put away for the cook?’<br/></p>
<p>Cor snapped his eyes once more away from the corridor, and patted Kuro on her head as she wandered off, clearly bored with the conversation.<br/></p>
<p>‘There is no cook.’ Cor replied, before turning to follow. ‘If you want hot food, you cook it yourself.’<br/></p>
<p>Prompto blinked. <i>Hot food…for himself?</i><br/></p>
<p>‘Wait-! The food is for the Family…right?’<br/></p>
<p>Cor waved as he walked around the corner.<br/></p>
<p>‘Eat up, kid. I’ll be back in three days.’<br/></p>
<p>Prompto stood there for several moments after he was gone, his mind blank before starting up once more with the sluggish actions of weary machinery.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>He…the pallet was for him?</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Turning back towards the corridor, Prompto shuddered as the wind picked up around him, the yawning echo of darkness in the dusty corridor beckoning him back inside.<br/></p>
<p>Shaking his head, Prompto allowed out a shivery breath before pulling himself up in determination.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Do it for the cheese.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Mind made up, Prompto clenched his fists and stomped back into the empty house.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Wandering</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompto investigates</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! Here's the latest chappie! Thank you again for all of your comments and kudos and views! I'm happy folks seem to be enjoying it so far :D I'm looking forward to delving into this a bit more but for now Back to Prommie!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ignoring the rooms around him, Prompto strode into the kitchen, his heart thumping in his chest as the electricity flickered.<br/></p>
<p>‘The food…is for me?’<br/></p>
<p>Prompto looked at the pallet again. Three days he’d said.<br/></p>
<p>Looking around, he found a back room that went out from the kitchen. Carefully, he made his way across to it holding onto his new found courage and when nothing else decided to touch him or jump out at him, Prompto breathed out and took in his surroundings with a more determined eye. There he was happy to discover the room was a scullery where he can get to work on the first lot of cleaning in the kitchen.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Better start somewhere…</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>A chill wind touched the back of his neck and Prompto yelped, all of his determination withering in a moment. Turning towards the chill he found an open door behind him that he hadn’t noticed before and more stone steps leading down, odd lights strung down against the wall, lighting the way. Prompto shivered again, remembering the spiral stair and the broken gate he’d encountered before. Tentatively he approached the doorway, feeling relief when he realised he could clearly see the bottom of the straight stairwell and was clearly better maintained, if a touch dusty.<br/></p>
<p>‘Right. Let’s see where this goes…’ he muttered to himself, braver than he felt.<br/></p>
<p>Carefully he went down the steps, keeping on hand on the wall for balance. He could be clumsy sometimes and the last thing he wanted was to fall down. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust in the darkness and when they did, he realised how small the room actually was, but the thing before him was anything but.<br/></p>
<p>‘Whoa…’ Prompto gasped, inspecting the machinery. It was a massive construction of iron, cylindrical and tall with multiple pipes running from it into the ceiling. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’<br/></p>
<p>Excitement, for the first time in so long, rose up in his chest, a wide grin splitting his face; muscles aching in disuse as he cast about for what he knew must be in the room with him.<br/></p>
<p>‘Gotcha!’ he yelled, triumphantly. Whipping away a large dusty canvas sheet, Prompto smiled as he looked upon the black stones before him.<br/></p>
<p>Coal. And this was a furnace.<br/></p>
<p><i>Heating!</i><br/>Opening the hatch, he was quick to set match to kindling and get a fire roaring. Coal went tumbling in next and still grinning he closed the hatch, feeling the heat from the metal begin to fill the small room. To his surprise however, he started to hear a bubbling sound from above, then a hissing…<br/></p>
<p>Momentary panic flooded him, had he done something wrong? Had he broken it? It was a furnace, it shouldn’t be that difficult!<br/></p>
<p>But then another thought came to him, borne from an overheard conversation on the streets a long time ago. It was mad…right? Madness…but this was a crazy rich place…right? So it was possible…right?!<br/></p>
<p>Scrambling up the stairs, he entered the scullery again and ran to the sink. He turned the tap, water gushing out of the spout and he watched; and he waited.<br/></p>
<p>…there!<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Steam!</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>‘Hot water, hot damn…’<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Ancient money indeed.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Turning the tap closed, Prompto ran back into the kitchen before running back in and grabbing a large low edged basket and filling it with wood even as his mind was racing.<br/></p>
<p>Fire…hot water…cheese…<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Astrals above…</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>It took surprisingly short work to set the fire going in the oven, its heat billowing across Prompto’s face. He found himself sat there, just basking comfortably in something he hadn’t felt in a long time. He actually felt warm.<br/></p>
<p>Oven prepped he couldn’t hold back any longer and jumped up to check the rest of the basket of food.<br/></p>
<p>Vegetables he put aside and reverently picked up the wheel of cheese before placing it next to them. The stuff in the bottle smelt odd but the bread crunched when he gripped it and he fought against himself and his suddenly gurgling stomach to not rip it apart. Instead he put it to the side to pull away the wrapped piece in the middle.<br/></p>
<p>It was meat.<br/></p>
<p>Meat!<br/></p>
<p>Garula by the looks of it. Cured and ready to eat.<br/></p>
<p>This pushed him over the edge and he was quick to tear a chunk off, hesitating before allowing himself to eat it. Meat was for the rich, or at least the adults of a household, or special times like Shivamas or Solstice Festival and here he was! Able to eat it! Him!<br/></p>
<p>He smiled, chewing slowly as the warmth of the oven filled the space of the kitchen.<br/></p>
<p>Across the room, in the shadowed corner eyes traced his smile before stepping away.<br/></p>
<p>Prompto looked up, quickly scanning the doorway, but when nothing seemed out of the ordinary he dismissed it as the lights possibly flickering again and went back to his unexpectedly wonderful meal.<br/></p>
<p>After having a few more bites of the Garula meat, a piece of bread and a sliver of the cheese (to his absolute delight), Prompto got himself some water and nodded to himself.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Best see what I’m working with here.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Having found the scullery he had access to his mops, bucket and washcloths and to the side he found the cupboard of cleaners and polishers (half of which he recognised, the others would take some guesswork). So, time to see where he’d be cleaning…and where he’d be staying.<br/></p>
<p>Food returned to the pallet for the moment with a canvas cloth draped over it, Prompto hefted his low basket of wood, kindling and matches and made his way upstairs. He’ll focus on opening what windows he could and lighting the fireplaces. Some light and fresh air ought to clear out some of the cobwebs and shadows that tended to linger in disused places.<br/></p>
<p>As Prompto moved into the large foyer once more surrounded by the statues of Astrals and Lords past, he got to thinking.<br/></p>
<p>This place was seemingly empty, being looked after by Mr. Leonis and now him. Moving to the main staircase that hugged the back wall Prompto frowned. It could simply be that the Family lived somewhere else and this was one of the Houses they had but had fallen into disrepair?<br/></p>
<p>Looking out of one of the towering windows that went from elbow height to the ceiling, Prompto frowned at the overgrown courtyard below.<br/></p>
<p>It would make more sense, he supposed. Might be that the Family are preparing to move back in, which would explain the necessity of a cleaner.<br/></p>
<p>But then if the Family are returning…why could he choose any room in which to reside? Talk about awkward if they suddenly came back one day.<br/></p>
<p>Making his way down the corridor, carpeted and quiet, Prompto decided not to linger in his thoughts. Best to make sure he didn’t get lost. From what he could see outside, this place was gigantic.<br/></p>
<p>Which just brought up another question.<br/></p>
<p>Why only him?<br/></p>
<p>If getting this place clean was what was important, then getting a team of people in to get the place in a liveable condition would make the most sense. Prompto didn’t even want to consider how he was going to clean that statue of Bahamut without falling and breaking his neck, or getting stuck.<br/></p>
<p>Prompto shuddered at that one. Cor mentioned he’d be back in three days…didn’t he? The thought of being trapped with no one who could help him for that long made him feel sick. Looking at the first door, large with dark wood and a handle of bronze Prompto took a deep breath in before pulling the handle.<br/></p>
<p>‘Pardon the intrusion.’ He sang quietly making his way inside.<br/></p>
<p>Fear sank deep as he saw something move further in the room and instead of doing something smart like clicking the light switch or running away because ‘oh Shiva I’m not alone in this gigantic house’ he ran inside the room instead, feet carrying him to the windows where he was quick to pull aside the curtains and force light into the small room.<br/></p>
<p>Drapes.<br/></p>
<p>All the furniture was covered in white drapes and squinting in the low light made Prompto realise that what he had seen had been one such one over a lamp fluttering in the draught caused by him opening the door.<br/></p>
<p>Hand against his chest to calm his heart, Prompto groaned to himself. This was gonna be a long day.<br/></p>
<p>Pulling the curtains, heavy black velvet covered in dust, to the edges of the windows, he put down his basket and tied them with their close before unlocking the latch and opening the windows.<br/></p>
<p>That done, he tended to the fireplace.<br/></p>
<p>One room down. A hundred odd to go.<br/></p>
<p>The next few rooms were the same, luckily without the shifting drapes that had startled him in the first one and he moved through them fairly quickly, opening the windows and setting up the fireplaces. When he had to head back to the kitchen to gather more wood, he was glad to realise that the places he had already covered felt <i>alive</i>, like with every step he was breathing new life into the shadows that had clutched to the place before.<br/></p>
<p>Before he knew it he was humming to himself as he made his way deeper into the building, opening doors and windows and simply enjoying the fresh air, the hint of rain and knowing he won’t have to worry about holes in the roof.<br/></p>
<p>Prompto closed his eyes against the roaring warmth of the latest fireplace he had lit, a rather large one in what must have been a study or receiving room. There were long couches by the fireplace but further across were bookcases filled with large tomes and a large desk of dark polished wood, paled with a layer of dust. He knows that Cor said he’d have the day to relax but he couldn’t help but want to get started.<br/></p>
<p>But right now he found it hard to step away from the fire and the simple feeling of being warm. He knew that in a few hours the sun was going to set and he’d have to go around the rooms again, shutting the windows against the cold and checking the fireplaces to ensure they don’t burn the house down but right now, he didn’t want to move. Before he knew it, Prompto was resting his head against his folded arms, eyes trained on the flames, smiling at how they danced. The rug he was laying on was soft and comfortable and instead of enjoying his break and getting back to work, Prompto’s eyes slipped closed and he fell into a restful sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Welcome</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompto gets to know the House and the House gets to know him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ah *stretches* it's so GOOD to be back! </p>
<p>I have missed this! I'm back and I'm ready to start getting this stories continued! So hope you are still around and are looking forward to finding out more about Prompto and the mysteries of the Palace!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘So…this is new.’<br/></p>
<p>The thought wrapped around his mind as slowly as the air, clear and fresh from the rain, swept into the House, various windows open to the storm. Nothing had changed for so long. Dust had settled, cold wood and stone had petrified quietly in the slow death of absence until even the shadows seized without breath to stir them.<br/></p>
<p>But this was <i>new.</i><br/></p>
<p>A hand, opaque against the failing light, sparkling like spiders webs in the flames reached out to the fireplace before him. It was lit. There was fire. The sound of the crackle was muted as though seen through glass. The shadows shifted once more, the chill from the wind that picked up from the white drapes as though a servant were straightening them over the unused furniture.<br/></p>
<p>The windows were open.<br/></p>
<p>This was all…<br/></p>
<p>A snort turned the awareness away to the rug in front of the lit fireplace and its consideration of sheets and shadows. Head tilted in wordless confusion he looked upon the figure sleeping soundly before him. Hair, dirty and matted still shone golden in the firelight, threadbare clothes of worse material than the ancient rug he unwittingly slept on revealed slivers of achingly pale skin. Bruises, old but glaring revealed a story too easy to read. His chest moved as he breathed, goosebumps raising on his skin as the night made herself known.<br/></p>
<p>Eyes traced the frown that had erupted on the man’s face.<br/></p>
<p>Time to go.</p><p>Prompto shifted awake as a chill shook through him. Ah, he’d slept. He shouldn’t have done that.<br/></p>
<p>Cursing for time lost, he shuffled up shivering despite the fire that still crackled warmly in front of him.<br/></p>
<p>The windows!<br/></p>
<p>Scrambling up he ran over to the windows, pulling them closed and folding shut the clasp. Rain pattered against the glass as Prompto eyed the sills with a sigh. Great. Time to get the bucket and cloths before mould set in. Of all the times to fall asleep.<br/></p>
<p>But that was about right to be fair. When was the last time he had a full belly, enough water and the rolling heat of a roaring fire holding him like an embrace?<br/></p>
<p>He…actually found it hard to remember and as he headed out of the room he wondered if he ever <i>had.</i><br/></p>
<p>Moving down the corridor, Prompto made his way into the rooms, closing the windows and lighting what lamps he could find before heading back towards the main foyer. He stopped as he crossed the balcony, quickly looking into the garden below. He had been sure he saw something move down there. He squinted through the rain soaked panes before giving up, unable to really see anything through the storm. Feeling unnerved, he headed quickly down into the kitchen, pointedly avoiding the door that led down to the stone basement he had found.<br/></p>
<p>The oven was still warm in the kitchen when he entered and he felt himself sighing at the feeling even as he headed over to the side room where the cleaning supplies were. Grabbing several rags and a bucket, he made his way back upstairs, yawning heavily. It luckily didn’t take too long to go around the rooms, closing the windows and cleaning what little water had made it in from the storm and he found himself humming to himself as he stored his cleaning supplies away, his thoughts turning to sleep and of course, the rather important question of…where?<br/></p>
<p>Heading out of the supply room, Prompto grabbed another chunk of meat before wrapping it up again and balanced the bread and some water in his arms before heading back upstairs.<br/>So far he hadn’t come across any other stairs to the upper levels and was too tired to explore and clean out any more rooms. Sighing he decided to bunk up in one of the first floor rooms for tonight, then properly explore tomorrow.<br/></p>
<p>The servant’s quarters had to be <i>somewhere</i> upstairs.<br/>Wandering down the corridor already half asleep, Prompto snapped to attention when something ran across the carpet.<br/></p>
<p>‘Okay…I saw that.’ He whispered before drawing himself up, ‘You there! Show yourself!’<br/></p>
<p>Silence.<br/></p>
<p>Deepening silence reigned in the darkened corridor as the wind pushed against the windows outside.<br/></p>
<p>‘Y-you,’ Prompto stammered, his heart pounding in his chest, ‘I saw you! T-there is no point in hiding!’<br/></p>
<p>Even as he said that Prompto wondered where an intruder could be hiding, having seen the shadow cross the corridor, there was a door further down but he was certain he hadn’t seen it that far down. Having no other choice, he reluctantly put down his food and made his way down the corridor, heart pounding in his ears.<br/></p>
<p>‘I-‘ he started before fear strangled his throat, he coughed summoning what courage he could, ‘I have a weapon and the staff will hear me call! Now show yourself!’<br/></p>
<p>Prompto came up to the door, hand hovering over the doorknob, shaking as his breath wavered. He finally caught the sound of something moving inside and felt adrenaline rush through him. He couldn’t fight…what would he do about someone inside?<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Astrals he wasn’t expecting to deal with this.</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>‘I-I know you’re there!’ he called, swallowing against his fear one last time, breathing heavily as though he were about to dive into a lake. ‘I’m coming in!’<br/></p>
<p>Allowing one last whimper to pass his throat he gritted his teeth and gripped the doorknob, throwing the door open.<br/></p>
<p>He got the sight of a black haired man with eyes as dark as the night sky standing by the large desk before a gust of wind slammed the door closed against his head, booming in the empty house. Gasping in pain, his head and nose throbbing painfully, Prompto wrenched the door back open finding only the fire crackling in the fireplace and the window he was certain he had closed now open, the storm roaring outside.<br/></p>
<p>Racing over to the window he pulled it fully open, looking out into the rain to try and catch the man he had seen, but nothing revealed itself. The wall was only a storey and a half up, but it was still too high for anyone to jump without an injury and there were no handholds or ledges a person could use, unless…<br/></p>
<p>Ice slid down his spine, hair on the back of his neck raising as he suddenly became aware of someone stood behind him.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>Idiot! He just hid!</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>Squeezing his eyes shut against the fear that threatened to swallow him in panic, Prompto span quickly, arm flailing out to hopefully hit whomever had snuck up on him but nothing. He hit air.<br/></p>
<p>Prompto was panicking. He knew he was. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop his breaths pulling his lungs the wrong way. Turning he slammed the window closed before grabbing a candlestick from the deck and raising it.<br/></p>
<p>‘N-now just, just show yourself! I saw you! I know you’re there so-so come on out! Come out!’ he screamed, stepping to the centre of the room.<br/></p>
<p>A gust flew past his neck making him turn, swinging. Again, nothing. Just the crackling of the fire where he had been napping not a few hours prior.<br/></p>
<p>‘I’m-I’m serious here! Stop playing games!’<br/></p>
<p>A flicker in his peripheral almost had Prompto swinging again, but his mind was starting to focus again, the fear slipping in response to his anger, his adrenaline going full circle. He stopped, eyes pointed straight ahead to the fireplace where various candlesticks and a rather ornate silver pot stood and waited. He waited as that gust pushed against his neck again and he stood, stock still as his eyes fixed upon his own warped reflection in the curved silver, that freezing chill seizing his lungs as a body stepped out the shadows behind him, moving closer and closer to him. He watched, tears slipping from his eyes as it came right up behind him, a chill pressing against his back as he watched whatever was behind him turn its head towards his ear.<br/></p>
<p>
  <i>‘PleAsuRE tO MeEt YoU.’</i>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>The candlestick dropped with a muffled thud before Prompto joined it, his mind going black as he succumbed to the fear.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Storms and Shadows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Prompto sees a lot more than he is sure he can handle.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prompto’s eyes shifted behind closed lids as he shivered on the wooden floor, dust kicked up around him from the wind that blew in from the window as he shook, unable to wake.<br/>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He stood outside. The sun bright as people dressed elegantly made their way into the House.</i><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He was inside. There were people conversing excitedly without sound before a man, greying and leaning on a cane smiled at them, waving his hand to unveil the statue of Bahamut to silent glad applause.</i><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He was upstairs. A group of people milled about a young boy, laughing though the child cried in a suit of black.</i><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He was downstairs, his mind finally catching up as people ran down the stairs he had seen before, chased by the fires that lit from the kitchen.</i><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He was in the garden.</i><br/>
</p>
<p><i>He is in the garden as a young man with black hair stands with his back to him in front of a grand mausoleum. The black of mourning is still clad around him though it had been many years. The garden slowly dies around him as he tilts his head at the white stone, putting on his top hat and turning slowly, eyes lifting from the ground in surprise at the blond haired man who he hadn’t been expecting to be stood there.</i><br/>
</p>
<p>The lightning struck loudly and Prompto flinched, eyes flying open only to be assaulted violently by the storm that was in full tempest. He flung his arms up against the rain and wind as leaves and twigs became weapons against him, shouting out in alarm as he tried to figure how he was even in the garden, why he was outside, how did he get here?!<br/>
</p>
<p>Unable to answer he cast about to find the way back but he couldn’t see anything in the darkness. The trees whipped around him in the storm, the rain lashing him in freezing cold, he headed behind where he had been stood, aware of the weight of the House in the shadows behind him and as lightning struck once more he saw the building flash in sharp relief before disappearing into the darkness once more. Nearly sobbing as he shook in cold and fear he made his way towards the building. His feet stumbled over rocks and broken slabs as he tripped his way forwards, now fully soaked to the bone as thunder rolled somewhere in the darkness far above him. The lightning flashed once more, thunder shaking his bones making him shout out as fear consumed him.<br/>
</p>
<p>He ran.<br/>
</p>
<p>He knows he shouldn’t. Some part of his brain is screaming as to how dangerous it is, but he can’t stop. He can’t. His heart is stuttering in his chest, his body shaking with cold and pure panic his eyes fixed ahead of him where he can finally see the faint light of the fireplaces he had lit through the windows, a beckoning welcome…<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>‘WelCome to mY HoMee.’</i><br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto hesitated, faltering as his mind remembered the figure he had seen in the study. The one who had stepped behind him. The man who had bowed before a mausoleum dressed in black. The one who was looking at him from the window…<br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto stopped. The storm kicking up as he stared and the black figure at the window stared right back.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘I can’t take this…’ he cried, as the unmoving figure kept watch from above, ‘I-who am I to handle this…I just wanted a place to be. A roof over my head that didn’t leak, a floor that didn’t rot from bugs and food that didn’t need the mould pulled off of it. That was all I wanted!’<br/>
</p>
<p>The storm took his words away into the darkness as Prompto hugged himself tightly, angrily before shouting.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘I just wanted a damn home!’ he cried, ‘I just wanted to belong! Who cursed me so soundly that everywhere I go, it is nothing but ruin and fear!? At what point do I suffer enough? When do my tears stop amusing you?!’<br/>
</p>
<p>Wiping away the wetness on his face; tears, rain, dirt he didn’t know, Prompto glared above him, anger taking the place of his fear. Indignation to the hand he’d been dealt in life that led him bruised and shivering in a storm sparking in his heart.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Right. This is my life then. A cleaner for a dead Lord. Well, have at you!’ he screamed, before yelping as lightning struck once more, his strength mostly fleeing at the shock as he clapped his hands over his ears. Breathing heavily he slowly pulled them away, gathering himself as he strode forward, determined to not be pushed away from the House.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘Here we go Prompto…’ he muttered to himself, before heaving open the door to a previously unseen conservatory. ‘Time to introduce yourself to your employer.’<br/>
</p>
<p>Prompto shivered as he closed the door against the storm, the wind dying instantly, the silence horrifyingly absolute. Freezing cold, wet and shaking with nerves and tears still falling down his cheeks, Prompto turned and made his way towards the House proper, pointedly ignoring the dust he was picking up on his shoes or the large shadow that seemed to loom from the plants around him. He knew where he had to go and he didn’t think his heart could take anything else right now.<br/>
</p>
<p>The conservatory opened out into a large banquet hall with a chandelier that Prompto once more pointedly ignored, even more so when the clattered sounds of cutlery moving quietly echoed behind him, another shadow stepping out from the far doorway as he passed.<br/>
</p>
<p>He was cold and his stomach felt like it was trying to crawl out of his throat but he kept moving forwards. His determination would only hold for so long and if he stopped and looked around he knew his courage would fail him. Then what?<br/>
</p>
<p>Well he’d be out on the streets, with nothing to his name, destined to die freezing on the cobblestones.<br/>
</p>
<p>Shaking his head, Prompto ground his chattering teeth as he climbed the stairs trying to swallow the whimper that clawed out of his throat. Getting to the first floor he heard the wind press against the windows and had an awful moment where he wasn’t sure which way to go, having gone to the first floor from a different staircase, but then he clocked the water jug and the remains of his supper on the carpet and knew where he had to go.<br/>
</p>
<p>Astrals it seemed an eternity ago that he’d walked down the corridor trying to find somewhere to sleep. Now he stood in front of the door to the study completely changed from the boy who had called out to the shadows to show themselves.<br/>
</p>
<p>A hysterical laugh, a single <i>‘ha’</i> barked out of his mouth at the irony before he controlled himself, breathing heavily.<br/>
</p>
<p>Astrals above, he was scared. Astrals above, he was terrified. He was seconds away from vomiting and even less away from bolting.<br/>
</p>
<p>He reached his hand out to the handle once more before stopping and drawing back. No, he’ll do this properly. Belatedly his mind went back to when he had talked to Mr. Leonis earlier, when the sun had been shining and his life was hopeful. <i>Spiders he had said…</i><br/>
</p>
<p>It was only now looking back, that Prompto realised he hadn’t mentioned what had scared him so much. Mr. Leonis had looked into the corridor and Prompto knew now that what was happening now, was something he had known and he had let Prompto carry on regardless.<br/>
</p>
<p>‘So it is what it is…’ Prompto muttered to himself before drawing himself up, taking a deep breath and raising his fist, knocking on the wood twice before stepping back. ‘My Lord, may I enter?’ he called out loudly, very glad that his voice didn’t waver despite his shivers.<br/>
</p>
<p>The whole corridor fell silent, even the wind and thunder seemed to disappear with baited breath. The only noise came from Prompto himself, his breath rattling through his nose as he fought his mounting fear, his heart slamming in his ears as he repeated what he had said over and over in his mind, almost questioning whether he had even said it at all.<br/>
</p>
<p>He exhaled heavily. Nothing. After all that…<br/>
</p>
<p>Then the sound of a lock clicked, making Prompto jump violently having not known the door could even be locked and a voice called from within.<br/>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p>
  <i>‘Enter.’</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>